


12:16

by edgeofmyniall



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: F/M, Niall Horan - Freeform, Sad Niall, breakup niall, niall dealing with a breakup
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-24
Updated: 2016-05-24
Packaged: 2018-06-10 09:24:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,554
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6950575
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/edgeofmyniall/pseuds/edgeofmyniall
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She's been dealing with the late night thoughts of him, wondering what he's doing. He's been out of sorts since they broke up. Maybe they can reconcile if only they break down their walls....</p>
            </blockquote>





	12:16

“12:16” the green light on the digital alarm clock blinks. I’m lying in bed, staring at the ceiling complete darkness consuming the bedroom except for the annoying clock. I can’t sleep, I mean I haven’t been able to sleep in months, but tonight I can’t even force my eyes shut and pretend to rest. I roll over and this bed feels too crowded even though I’m the only one in it. He used to sleep next to me, all those years ago. I thought I had moved on, hell I was seeing someone else for a good while, but when we fucked, I kept thinking of him. I’ve been thinking about him for months now, which might be the reason why I can’t sleep. I can’t seem to shake him out of my mind. I reach for my phone that is lost in the waves of sheets. I shouldn’t be doing this. I click the home button making my phone light up. My background of the beach that we spent all summer on lit up my face. That moment on the beach, when he told me he loved me forever, will be the only piece of him that he didn’t take with him. I swipe my screen and my apps appear, waiting for me to tap on them. I click the blue square and a bird emerges. As I’m waiting for it to load, I look over at his old pillow, I can still picture him laying down talking about practically nothing. He always loved sleep, but when we talked about our day when we laid down, his face lit up as I asked about a new song he wrote. The white light of my screen pulls me back on my electronic device. I tap on the search bar and begin to type in his name. If you were to search his public account thousands upon thousands of accounts appear, but there was only one official account and it belonged to him. He used it for work and to get in touch with people that had his same job, but he never uploaded a personal picture to his work account. But when you search for his private one, there’s only one name to show up, and the picture isn’t even of him, it’s some random ass dude he pulled off the internet. My finger stop just before I tap his name and I close my eyes, breathing in enough air to fill my lungs. I click the screen and I jolt my eyes open. There was his personal life at the mercy of his fingertips and yet he hadn’t used this account since the night he left. I just wanted to know what he was up to, if life was treating him well. But there’s nothing. He hasn’t said a word on here for three years now. I close out the app, feeling hopeless. I open my text messages and tap on the new message icon. I type in his name, holding on to some hope that I kept it. There it is. I hadn’t even changed his name to a more appropriate one. It still had the two letters that made his heart flutter each time I said them. Ni. I click down on his name and I stare at my screen. What am I doing? I want to type out how much I missed him and how I want him to come back into my life, even if it just friends. I don’t care, I just miss him too much and it hurts. I tried moving on, but I can’t. He’ll always be my first love and a part of me will never move on. But my thumbs freeze over the letters. A simple one word message will suffice. 

"hey."

I click send and toss my phone onto his side of the bed so I won’t stare at the screen waiting for the indicator of him typing. I just wanted to know what he’s doing….

*************************************************************************************

12:16, I checked my phone for the fifth time in the past ten minutes. For some reason, she’s been on my mind lately. I remember lying in bed with her, listening talk about pointless gossip that she heard at work. I didn’t mind it really, I just loved hearing her talk, the way her nickname for me would roll off her lips when she thought I wasn’t paying any attention. Every time I hear the word “Ni” my heart skipped a beat; it still does now three years later. I always expect it’s her who’s saying it, but it’s just one of the boys or my manager telling me to get ready for a show. I’m sitting in a room full of people and I have never felt so lonely. The boys insisted on an after party but I just wanted to catch up on my sleep, or at least try to. I would toss and turn each night, not really getting any sort of shut eye. When I did, I dreamed that she was in my arms, kissing my nose or making fun of my accent. I unlock my phone and go to my Twitter. I click on my account and it’s still logged into my work account, my official one where all the fans write me and send me uplifting messages. I hold down the silhouette and tap on my personal account. I hadn’t tweeted since the night we broke up. Never felt like anything was bullshit until now. That was a low blow, even for me. I regretted each night since posting it knowing that she would be on my account looking to see if I had moved on. But I hadn’t. I’m still madly in love with her. The boys had tried their best to get me to go out with different girls and they were pretty yes, but not what I wanted. I tap on the search bar and type in her name. There she is, still so fuckin’ beautiful. I click on her picture and scroll through her tweets. They’re an array of emotions, sometimes she’s happy or philosophical and others she’s miserable and wants to cry. I miss her so fucking much. I know she tweeted a lot around a year had passed by after our break-up to show me how she moved on and was feeling better about herself. She even posted a picture of her new guy and it hurt like hell. I locked myself in my rooms for days trying to get the picture from burning in my mind. In these three years, I kept checking on her, to make sure she was okay. I know I hurt her and I know I’m an asshole for leaving her; it’s been eating at me the second I slammed the apartment door shut. I close out the app before someone notices and look up rugby schedule for the upcoming week. Our first date was a rugby match. She had no idea what was going on, but she loved it. I knew she did, the way her eyes lit up as flags were thrown almost every five minutes. Our favorite team is playing next Sunday, I wonder if she’ll watch? I can’t do anything without thinking of her. I close the internet down and stare at my background. Our first picture of when we first met, she had gotten drunk in a pub and started buying me rounds at the bar. She made fun of my native accent, mocking the way I sat and held my beer. I smile at the memory, hoping that I could find someone half as amazing as her. My phone vibrates and I look and see a strange number pop up. I tap on my text messages and see a simple one word message. It’s from her. I know it.

“hey.”

It reads and before I can think about what I’m doing I type out her name with a question mark, praying that it’s her…

*************************************************************************************

12:48, I read my name on the screen of my phone. He actually answered. I bite my lip and type out

"yeah, what are you doing?"

and send it before I back out. His ellipsis comes up immediately and his response sends butterflies to my stomach.

"Nothing much, sitting at a lame ass party the boys threw, wbu?"

My fingers fly at lightning speed to respond.

"laying in bed"

I send another, not thinking of the consequences.

"i miss you"

He responds immediately and I smile at his words.

*************************************************************************************

1:03 the clocks says as I send my latest text to her.

"I miss you more. I still love you, ya know that right?"

I send another one, hoping that she’ll respond.

"Meet me where we met tomorrow, I want you to know how sorry I am."

My heart flutters as I wait for her response. She hasn’t read it, but I know her. She’s smiling at my words. I do still love her, oh so very much.

"i love you too & okay, meet you there at noon. goodnight ni."

She’s going to meet me. I just want to be in her life and show her how much she means to me.

"Goodnight and sweet dreams, princess."

I know tomorrow will be worth the three year hell.


End file.
